


Deep and Dolorous

by shinidie



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Fluff, Jeongwoo couldn't sleep, Stream MMM, Treasure ROTY, Visiting Haruto's home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:34:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinidie/pseuds/shinidie
Summary: Contrast to the exuberance of the members under Japan's luster, Park Jeongwoo is unhappy.
Relationships: Park Jeongwoo/Watanabe Haruto
Kudos: 49





	Deep and Dolorous

**Author's Note:**

> Just a random scenery in my head. Hope you enjoy! (how do you put dividers-)

As a reward for winning the Rookie of the Year, the group flew to Japan for a one-week vacation. It was all fun, getting lost in the narrow alleyways and cityscapes of Tokyo, dazed by the bizarre foreign culture. A week consists mostly of strolling and prowling for good food, melting within the heart of Korea’s neighboring country, it felt like their years-worth of hard work was fully paid off. It was all fun, but not for Park Jeongwoo. 

The thing is, there’s always been a man he treasures the most. And this man has been avoiding him for weeks. Hell, this man doesn’t even look at him. Any attempts of conversation fall cold, any efforts, blocked. Jeongwoo was growing desperate and desperate every second, but all those failed endeavors has dwindled his will. 

Jeongwoo has loved Haruto ever since they were trainees— from afar. 

It was a long kept secret of his. For all these years, his ribs were enough to tame his longing heart. He tried to be the dearest friend of the person he doesn’t want to be only friends with, and at length it worked. They were inseparable. So with the current situation, Jeongwoo finds himself wondering what happened that made the red thread between them two lengthen.

For the fifth day of their tour, Hyunsuk suggested that they should split up in four teams to accompany the J-line to visit their homes, and to determine who comes with who, they’d draw lots. 

“Asahi, Yoshinori, Mashiho, Haruto, step up.” Jihoon commanded, shaking his clasped hands. The four Japanese boys lined up in front of the rest. Funnily enough, Jeongwoo was the closest to Jihoon so he was the first to draw. Lips pressed, he glanced at the man he’s praying to not to draw the name of. 

Their eyes met. And everything except Haruto seemed to lost its opacity. 

It was the first eye contact for weeks. A huge wave of undefinable emotions surged against Jeongwoo. He mustered up his remaining strength to not cave in with the fierce tides of his heart, in which he succeeded. Barely.

He unfolded the paper. _Please not be Haruto. Please be Haruto. Please be Haruto._

And the universe listened, “Ruto-ya.”

It’s going to be a long day.

-

The universe being on your side is indeed a rare occurrence, but the universe being on your side while simultaneously against you is even more so. That’s Jeongwoo’s case. However, he doesn’t quite place if him being in this team is disfavored, but he does know that he doesn’t want to draw anyone else’s name other than Haruto. It’s a dilemma.

It’s favorable for the young boy to have Junkyu to ease his nerves somehow. Fukuoka, Haruto’s hometown, is 5 hours away from Tokyo by bullet train. Long ride. There was no other escape to the reality but sleep, and so he drifted in and out of consciousness, head resting on Junkyu’s shoulder. For some reason he felt jaded to his core that even the food doesn’t bring enthusiasm to him. 

Haruto’s presence, once comforting, is suffocating to him. 

He felt a tap on his cheek. 

“Jeongwoo-a. We’re almost here.” 

“Ruto-ya?”

“Do I sound like an old man to you?”

Distraught and embarrassed, the moment he opened his eyes he glimpsed over Haruto, who’s gazing outside the window solemnly. There’s a white wire leading to his ear; he’s wearing earphones. Jeongwoo couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

From the moment they got off the train, everything seemed to fleet by. Perhaps because of the thought of visiting the town where Haruto grew up, moreover visiting the house itself, is so intimate to him it’s overwhelming. Like a drunken lad, Jeongwoo couldn’t fully register what’s happening other than he’s in the Watanabe household and Haruto is weeping in the arms of his mother. And the scenery of the city as the sun withdraws, as seen from the veranda in the living room. And Junkyu asking him if he’s okay. It was all hazy. It was like he feel into a deep disassociation.

Reality settled into Jeongwoo’s mind when they were preparing to sleep. Haruto’s mom was kind enough to lend them the spare room, while Haruto sleeps in his room. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Junkyu asked once again as he lay down next to the preoccupied young boy. Jeongwoo hummed in response, turning his back to Junkyu, undisturbed.

-

It’s already 2 am and Jeongwoo still haven’t slept. His brain seemed to have ceased producing melatonin. He’s been staring at the ceiling, deep in reverie, occasionally attempting to doze off— to no avail— or watching his hyung beside him in deep slumber.

_He’s probably asleep by now._

Thirst perdured over his throat for quite some time now and it was at his direness to sleep that he decided to heed his body and dawdled down to the kitchen. It was a bad idea, he thought, the water was cold and now he’s as awake as ever.

As he set his heel on the first step of the stairway to return, a feeble gust of wind breezed by. He froze. All of the windows and the door is closed, the last time he checked. Someone was here— or is still here. 

Despite the morbid theories succumbing his mind, he tiptoed to the living room in curiosity. That must mean the veranda is open, he supposes. The risk of robbery arose, however, there’s another possibility he considers, bordering the line of anticipation.

With the placidity of the night over the residence, it’s almost certain his heartbeat could be heard a meter away from him. After all, it’s what he could only hear. 

The veranda was indeed open, but there was no masked bandit, just a silhouette of man leaning by the doorway, watching the meek foliage abode the dancing wind. He knows this figure with all his heart. This figure is probably the image he’d forget the last, if ever his memory declines. It was Haruto. Jeongwoo was stunned. His mind underwent the inverted process of the Grecian genesis; chaos, snap, blank. Should he run back to the room or run to him? Another dilemma.

Only a second has passed and it was already too late for decision. Even if the room is basking from dimness, relying to the lonely street lamp and moonlight for luminosity, he could tell his presence was acknowledged by the cracking of knuckles— Haruto’s way of expressing agitation. 

That moment was when space-time continuum proved itself to be a hoax. Time came into a screeching halt and everything fell— apart or into place, he doesn’t know. But he does know that this the turning point of their bleak relationship. It’s now or never. This might be his last attempt of reaching to Haruto, and probably his last rejection. 

“Ruto-ya.” He faltered, “won’t you at least tell me why you’re tormenting me so?”

He could have spoken fewer to lessen the risk of his voice cracking midsentence, yet he chose to articulate his distress that way and he paid for it. 

“Did… Did I do something wrong? Did I make you mad? It’s just that, you mean the world to me and I can’t bear to have my world turn its back on me. Aigoo, what am I saying?” Biting his inner cheek, he took a step forward, “Please—“

“Don’t come any closer.”

Jeongwoo’s efforts to swallow the lump on his throat was futile against Haruto’s retort. It was all too much. Breaking into full sobs, he cowered.

“Or…”

For a brief second, Haruto finally turned to look at him. Maybe it was only his imagination, but when a sliver of light peeked through and illuminated a portion of the room, Haruto’s eyes gleamed. 

“Or?”

The night was silent.

“I wouldn’t be able to control myself.” 

Very silent.

It was not pain he felt, but the emotions are so intense it’s painful. Unsure of what to say, and do, and feel, his tears stopped to cascade. _Did I understand it right?_ He just stayed stationary, stupefied, which made Haruto scoff. _Does that mean we’ve always been in the same page?_ A whole other universe birthed inside Jeongwoo, and with its vehemence, he ran. Earlier this dilemma presented itself, and now it came to the conclusion.

He ran to Haruto, clasping him from behind.

“I... thought I was alone.” Jeongwoo whispered.

Hesitating, Haruto removed the arms around him. Panic almost struck Jeongwoo, if only his hyung hadn’t held his hand as he pivoted to face him. The moon is beautiful tonight, and it glows over their tear-streaked face softly that they couldn’t help but hold a fervent eye contact. 

Haruto stroked Jeongwoo’s cheek, wiping the tears in process. “Yeah, I thought so too.”

When Jeongwoo beamed it was the first genuine smile ever for a while. Under the moonlight they melted, and with just a single touch, all of his troubles are gone. He felt alive. He couldn’t stop smiling. Neither could Haruto. 

_Perhaps, Japan isn’t bad at all._


End file.
